


School Nemeses 4

by magog_83



Series: School Nemeses [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magog_83/pseuds/magog_83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur are archenemies.  Optimistic young teacher Miss Slater thinks she can do something about that. Modern school!au.  Miss Slater arrives for detention on the same day Merlin had stapled Arthur’s boxer shorts to the school notice board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	School Nemeses 4

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Vensre. WIP.

It had just started raining when she arrived on Thursday afternoon, and the courtyard in front of the library was surprisingly empty of either Arthur or Merlin. Unlocking the door she ducked into the hallway to wait and, sure enough, Merlin was only two and a half minutes late this time – a vast improvement. He bounded up the pathway, looking wet and bedraggled as he tried to hold his blazer over his head in the absence of a proper coat (which he had probably forgotten).

“Where’s Arthur?” she asked, as soon as he was close enough to hear her.

Merlin skidded to a halt in the hallway. “Oh, I think he had to go home to change his boxer shorts, miss.”

“Change them?” This seemed a little over-dramatic for the sake of a staple hole.

“Yes, apparently someone chucked a pot of glitter over them as well.”

“Really,” said Miss Slater dryly.

“I know,” said Merlin, trying, and failing, to look appropriately shocked. “It’s a sad day when a person can’t leave their pants unattended for five minutes.”

Miss Slater pursed her lips and gave Merlin a Look. Merlin just grinned, not remotely abashed. She shook her head, giving up. “Come on then, delinquent. I suppose we’d best get started and let him catch up when he gets here.”

She led the way into the old library, switching on the lights as she went. The sudden shower had turned the afternoon dark and the library looked more shadowy than ever, rain streaking the high windows. Putting her box of supplies on the table, she turned, only then noticing Merlin’s slight hesitation.

“It’s alright,” she said, realising. “I’ve de-spidered all the crates and the table.”

Merlin wrinkled his nose a little, but came forward anyway. “De-spidered? Is that even a real word?”

Miss Slater raised an eyebrow. “I’m an English teacher, I’m allowed to make up words. Haven’t you ever tried it?”

Merlin thought about it for a moment. “Dunno. Does Pratdragon count?”

Miss Slater tried to look stern. “No, it does not.”

“Oh,” said Merlin, disappointed, “Then I suppose I haven’t.”

He dropped his bag and blazer on the floor next to the desk and sat down, pulling the nearest pile of books towards him and digging a biro out of his pocket to carry on with his list from Monday. Miss Slater in turn began rifling through the box she had brought with her, untangling the lead of a battered old radio and liberating a packet of chocolate digestives which had got stuck next to her box of tea bags. There was a small kitchen in the back corner of the library, next to what used to be the librarian’s office, and if she was going to be in here for hours at a time, she fully intended to make use of it.

Five minutes later, after she had valiantly battled the ancient kettle for supremacy and won, she carried in two rather chipped cups of tea. She passed one to Merlin and put the other carefully on the table before she checked her watch, glancing out of the window at the continuing downpour.

“Arthur’s taking a while,” she said, frowning. “Maybe he’s got caught in the rain?”

“Maybe he’s fallen into an enormous puddle,” said Merlin absently, and with a little too much hope, as he neatly recorded the large dusty copy of the _1964 Girl Guide’s Handbook_ on his list.

Miss Slater decided to feign deafness.

She sat down opposite Merlin and drew another stack of books towards her, flicking through the opening pages of each and assigning them to Merlin’s pile or the cardboard box marked ‘recycling.’ Another ten minutes ticked slowly past and she was just about to drop a rather disintegrated copy of _Mathematics and You_ into the recycling box when she glanced up to see Merlin checking the clock on the wall, a small frown on his face. She looked at him curiously and he flushed, muttering something about checking how much time he had left as he went back to his list.

She put the book aside and picked up another one, flicked through it and passed it across to Merlin. Then, “How long have you known Arthur?” she asked.

Merlin froze, then looked up slowly. “Um… since second year I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yes. No, I mean, he must have been there before, in first year, but I didn’t really know him then.” Merlin ducked his head and started writing out another title.

“So what changed?” said Miss Slater, interested now.

“Well, he was being a prat,” said Merlin, as if that explained everything.

Miss Slater raised her eyebrows and waited for Merlin to elaborate, which he did, eventually. “He was playing football with a first year. By which I mean he was throwing a football _at_ the first year and they were trying to dodge it.”

“And you stopped him?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Merlin fiddled with his pen, “I told him he was an ass.”

“Oh,” said Miss Slater, “Well that doesn’t seem so—”

“—and then I knocked him over with a fire extinguisher.”

“Ah.” finished Miss Slater, “I see.” She flicked through a mildewed copy of _So you think you can crochet?_ before pulling a face and dropping it in the box. “And it’s been open warfare ever since has it?”

Merlin looked sulky. “He started it.”

Miss Slater narrowly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You are both as bad as one another.”

Merlin kicked his foot against his chair leg a few times and didn’t answer.

“Have you ever tried, you know, _not_ fighting with him?”

“Yes,” said Merlin at once.

Miss Slater was marginally impressed. “When?”

“When he had his leg in a cast for six weeks in Year Nine. I didn’t even steal his crutches!” Merlin looked like he was expecting a round of applause.

“Merlin,” said Miss Slater, squashing any such expectations immediately, “As shocking as this might be to you, not stealing the crutches of someone with a broken leg does not, in fact, qualify you for sainthood.”

“Well it should,” muttered Merlin, abandoning his list and reaching for another book.

“Maybe if you just—” She was cut off by the sudden slamming of a door and approaching footsteps. Seconds later Arthur burst in, breathing hard, an umbrella clutched in his hand and dripping water all over the floor.

“Nice brolly,” smirked Merlin after a pause, seemingly incapable of restraining himself.

For a moment Miss Slater thought the umbrella was going to end up somewhere painful. Apparently even Merlin realised this, and quickly became engrossed in his book once more.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” said Arthur, abandoning his glare at the back of Merlin’s head, “I had to—”

“It’s quite all right Arthur,” Miss Slater cut in, kindly. “I’ve heard all about it. Why don’t you hang up your wet things and dry off a bit.” She glanced at the clock, “We’ve only got about half an hour left anyway.”

Arthur quickly stripped off his wet coat and threw it over Merlin’s head, earning himself a muffled “ _hey!”_ before Arthur almost instantly said “oops!” and dragged it off again – draping it over a nearby chair and leaving Merlin rather soggy and dishevelled

“Sorry miss,” Arthur said as he took a seat, looking innocent. “My hand slipped.”

“Oops,” said Merlin, as he kicked Arthur sharply in the leg, “So did my foot.”

Miss Slater just sighed and reached for the chocolate biscuits.

 

The End


End file.
